UC-NRLF 


99 
CssTs 


ED2 


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C\j 


IN 

THE 

TIME 

THAT 

WAS 


BEING  LEGENDS 
OF  THE 

ALASKA 
KLINGATS 


DONE  INTO 
ENGLISH  BY 


FRED  LOCKLEY 

RARE  WESTERN  BOOKS 

4227  S.  E.  Stark  St. 
PORTLAND,  ORE. 


In 
The 
Time 
That 
Was 


Dedicated 
to 

<Ah-Koo 


Done   into   English 
by 

J.  Frederic  T^horne 

(Kitchakahaech) 

Illustrated 
by 

Jxadson  T.  Sergeant 

( To-a-sucka) 


Seattle, 
Washington, 
U.  S.  A. 


THE:  FIRST 

•volume  of  a  series 
of  Legends  of  tKe  tribe 
of  -AlasKan  Indians 
Known  as  tKe  Chil- 
Kats — of  the  Klintfats 
<As  told  fcv  Zactwok  the  "Bear" 
to  Kitchakahaech  the  "Raven" 


In  the  Time  That  Was 


"And  There  Was  Light." 


ACHOOK  of  the  Chilkats  told  me  these  tales 
of  The  Time  -  That  Was.  But  before  the  tell 
ing,  he  of  the  Northland  and  I  of  the  Southland  had 
travelled  many  a  mile  with  dog-team,  snowshoes, 
and  canoe. 

If  the  stories  suffer  in  the  telling,  as  suffer  they 
must  afar  from  that  wondrous  Alaskan  background 
of  mountain  and  forest,  glacier  and  river,  wrenched 
from  the  setting  of  campfires  and  trail,  and  divorced 
from  the  soft  gutturals  and  halting  throat  notes  in 
which  they  have  been  handed  down  from  generation 
to  generation  of  Chilkat  and  Chilkoot,  blame  not 
Zachook.  who  told  them  to  me,  and  forbear  to  blame 
me  who  tell  them  to  you  as  best  I  may  in  this  stiff 
English  tongue.  They  were  many  months  in  the 
telling  and  many  weary  miles  have  I  had  to  carry 
them  in  my  memory  pack. 


I  had  lost  count  of  the  hours,  lost  count  of  the 
days  that  at  best  are  marked  by  little  change  between 
darkness  and  dawn  in  the  Northland  winter,  until  I 
knew  not  how  long  I  had  lain  there  in  my  blanket 
of  snow,  waiting  for  the  lingering  feet  of  that  dawd 
ler,  Death,  to  put  an  end  to  my  sufferings. 

Some  hours,  or  days,  or  years  before  I  had  been 
pushing  along  the  trail  to  the  coast,  thinking  little 
where  I  placed  my  feet  and  much  of  the  eating  that  lay 
at  Dalton  Post  House ;  and  of  other  things  thousands  of 
miles  from  this  bleak  waste,  where  men  exist  in  the 


M35070 


hope  of  ultimate  living,  with  kaleidoscope  death  by 
their  side;  other  things  that  had  to  do  with  women's 
faces,  bills  of  fare  from  which  bacon  and  beans  were- 
rigidly  excluded,  and  comforts  of  the  flesh  that  some 
day  I  again  might  enjoy. 

Then,  as  if  to  mock  me,  teach  me  the  folly  of 
allowing  even  my  thoughts  to  wander  from  her  cold 
face,  the  Northland  meted  swift  punishment.  The 
packed  snow  of  the  trail  beneath  my  feet  gave  way, 
there  was  a  sharp  click  of  steel  meeting  steel,  and  a 
shooting  pain  that  ran  from  heel  to  head.  For  a  mo 
ment  I  was  sick  and  giddy  from  the  shock  and  sudden 
pain,  then,  loosening  the  pack  from  my  shoulders,  fell 
to  digging  the  snow  with  my  mittened  hands  away 
from  what,  even  before  I  uncovered  it,  I  knew  to  be  a 
bear  trap  that  had  bitten  deep  into  my  ankle  and  held 
it  in  vise  clutch.  Roundly  I  cursed  at  the  worse  than 
fool  who  had  set  bear  trap  in  man  trail,  as  I  tore 
and  tugged  to  free  myself.  As  well  might  I  have 
tried  to  wrench  apart  the  jaws  of  its  intended  victim. 

Weakened  at  last  by  my  efforts  and  the  excru 
ciating  pain  I  lay  back  upon  the  snow.  A  short 
rest,  and  again  I  pulled  feebly  at  the  steel  teeth, 
until  my  hands  were  bleeding  and  my  brain  swirling. 

How  long  I  struggled  blindly,  viciously,  like  a 
trapped  beaver,  I  do  not  know,  though  I  have  an 
indistinct  memory  of  reaching  for  my  knife  to 
emulate  his  sometime  method  of  escape.  But  with 
the  first  flakes  of  falling  snow  came  a  delicious,  con 
tentful  langour,  deadening  the  pain,  soothing  the 
weariness  of  my  muscles,  calming  the  tempest  of  my 
thoughts  and  fears,  and  lulling  me  gently  to  sleep 
to  the  music  of  an  old  song  crooned  by  the  breeze 
among  the  trees. 

When  I  awoke  it  was  with  that  queer  feeling 
of  foreign  surroundings  we  sometimes  experience, 
and  the  snow,  the  forest,  the  pain  in  my  leg,  my 
own  being,  were  as  strange  as  the  crackling  fire, 


the  warm  blanket  that  wrapped  me,  and  the  Indian 
who  bent  over  me  smiling  into  my  half  opened  eyes. 

So  were  our  trails  joined  and  made  one;  Zachook 
of  the  Northland,  and  I  of  the  Southland,  by  him 
later  called  Kitchakahaech,  because  my  tongue  moved 
as  moved  our  feet  on  the  trail,  unceasingly.  And 
because  of  this  same  love  of  speech  in  me,  and  the 
limp  I  bore  for  memory  of  the  bear  trap,  for  these 
and  possibly  other  reasons,  and  that  a  man  must 
have  a  family  to  bear  his  sins,  of  the  Raven  was  I 
christened  by  Zachook,  the  Bear,  and  to  the  family 
of  the  Raven  was  I  joined. 

Orator  among  his  people  though  he  was,  Zachook 
was  no  spendthrift  of  speech.  But  surly  he  never 
was;  his  silence  was  a  pleasant  silence,  a  companion 
able  interchange  of  unspoken  thoughts.  Nor  did  he 
need  words  as  I  needed  them,  his  eyes,  his  hands, 
his  wordless  lips  could  convey  whole  volumes  of 
meaning,  with  lights  and  shades  beyond  the  power 
that  prisons  thought.  Not  often  did  he  speak  at 
length,  even  to  me,  unless,  as  it  came  to  be,  he  was 
moved  by  some  hap  or  mishap  of  camp  or  trail  to 
tell  of  the  doings  of  that  arch  rascal,  Yaeethl,  the 
raven,  God,  Bird,  and  Scamp.  And  when,  sitting  over 
the  fire,  or  with  steering  paddle  in  hand,  he  did  open 
the  gates  that  lead  to  the  land  of  legend,  he  seemed 
but  to  listen  and  repeat  the  words  of  Kahn,  the  fire 
spirit,  who  stands  between  the  Northland  and  death, 
or  of  Klingat-on-ootke,  God  of  the  Waters,  whose 
words  seemed  to  glisten  on  the  dripping  paddle. 

So  it  was  upon  an  evening  in  the  time  when  we 
had  come  to  be  as  sons  of  the  same  mother,  when  we 
shared  pack  and  blanket  and  grub  alike,  and  were 
known,  each  to  the  other,  for  the  men  we  were.  We 
had  finished  our  supper  of  salmon  baked  in  the  coals, 
crisply  fried  young  grouse  and  the  omnipresent  sour 
dough  bread,  and  with  the  content  that  comes  of 
well  filled  stomachs  were  seated  with  the  fire  between 


us,  Zachook  studying  the  glowing  embers,  I  with 
that  friend  of  solitude,  my  pipe,  murmuring  peace 
fully  in  response  to  my  puffing. 

As  usual,  I  had  been  talking,  and  my  words  had 
run  upon  the  trail  of  the  raven,  whose  hoarse  call 
floated  up  to  us  from  the  river.  Idly  I  had  spoken, 
and  disparagingly,  until  Zachook  half  smilingly,  half 
earnestly  quoted: 

"He  who  fires  in  the  air  without  aim  may  hit  a 
friend." 

And  as  I  relapsed  into  silence  added:  "It  is 
time,  Kitchakahaech,  that  you  heard  of  the  head  of 
your  family,  this  same  Yaeethl,  the  raven.  Then  will 
you  have  other  words  for  him,  though,  when  you  have 
heard,  it  will  be  for  you  to  speak  them  as  a  friend 
speaks  or  as  an  enemy.  Of  both  has  Yaeethl  many." 

I  accepted  the  rebuke  in  silence,  for  Zachook 's 
trail  was  longer  then  mine  by  many  years,  and  he 
had  seen  and  done  things  which  were  yet  as  thoughts 
with  me. 

For  the  time  of  the  smoking  and  refilling  of  my 
pipe  Zachook  was  silent,  then  with  eyes  gazing  deep 
into  the  fire,  began: 


"Before  there  was  a  North  or  South,  when  Time 
was  not,  Klingatona-Kla,  the  Earth  Mother,  was 
blind,  and  all  the  world  was  dark.  No  man  had  seen 
the  sun,  moon,  or.  stars,  for  they  were  kept  hidden 
by  Yakootsekaya-ka,  the  Wise  Man.  Locked  in  a 
great  chest  were  they,  in  a  chest  that  stood  in  the 
corner  of  the  lodge  of  the  Wise  Man,  in  Tskekowani, 
the  place  that  always  was  and  ever  will  be.  Care 
fully  were  they  guarded,  many  locks  had  the  chest, 
curious,  secret  locks,  beyond  the  fingers  of  a  thief. 
To  outwit  the  cunning  of  Yaeethl  were  the  locks 


made.  Yaeethl  the  God,  Yaeethl  the  Raven,  Yaeethl 
the  Great  Thief,  of  whom  the  Wise  Man  was  most 
afraid. 

"The  Earth  Mother  needed  light  that  her  eyes 
might  be  opened,  that  she  might  bear  children  and 
escape  the  disgrace  of  her  barrenness.  To  Yaeethl 
the  Clever,  Yaeethl  the  Cunning,  went  Klingatona-Kla, 
weeping,  and  of  the  Raven  begged  aid.  And  Yaeethl 
took  pity  on  her  and  promised  that  she  should  have 
Kayah,  the  Light,  to  father  her  children. 

"Many  times  had  Yaeethl,  because  of  his  promise, 
tried  to  steal  the  Worlds  of  Light,  and  as  many  times 
had  he  failed.  But  with  each  attempt  his  desire  grew, 
grew  until  it  filled  his  belly  and  his  brain. 

"Was  he  not  Yaeethl,  the  Great  White  Raven, 
the  Father  of  Thieves?  What  if  the  Wise  Man  put 
new  and  heavier  locks  upon  the  chest  after  each  at 
tempt?  Were  locks  greater  than  the  cunning  of  the 
Raven? 

"Now  Yakootsekaya-ka,  the  Wise  Man,  and  his 
wife  had  a  daughter.  Of  their  marriage  was  she,  a 
young  girl,  beautiful  and  good.  No  man  had  ever 
seen  her  face.  On  no  one,  god  or  man,  had  the  eyes 
of  the  young  girl  ever  rested,  save  only  her  father 
and  mother,  the  Wise  Ones.  Ye-see-et,  'a  virgin,  was 
she. 

"Yaeethl,  of  his  wisdom  knowing  that  the  weak 
ness  of  men  is  the  strength  of  children,  that  a  babe 
may  enter  where  a  warrior  may  not  cast  his  shadow, 
bethought  him  of  this  virgin,  this  daughter  of  Yakoot 
sekaya-ka.  As  the  thought  and  its  children  made 
camp  in  his  brain  Yaeethl  spread  wide  his  snow-white 
wings. 

"Thrice  he  circled  high  in  air,  then  took  flight 
towards  Tskekowani,  the  meeting  place  of  Memory 
and  Hope.  Like  Chunet,  the  Arrow,  he  flew,  straight, 
and  as  Heen,  the  River,  swift.  Twice  ten  moons,  and 
another,  flew  Yaeethl  without  rest  of  wing  before  he 


drew  near  the  cabin  of  the  Wise  Man.  Away  from 
the  lodge  he  alighted,  by  the  edge  of  the  spring  were 
his  white  wings  folded,  by  the  spring  where  the 
daughter  of  the  Wise  Man  would  come  for  water. 

"Then,  with  the  power  that  was  his,  Yaeethl,  the 
God,  changed  the  shape  that  was  his,  the  shape  of  the 
raven;  into  a  small  white  pebble  did  he  change,  and 
lay  in  the  water  of  the  spring,  and  in  the  water 
waited  for  the  coming  of  the  girl. 

"Long  waited  Yaeethl,  the  Pebble,  with  the 
patience  of  wisdom  and  great  desire.  And  the  girl 
came. 

"Beautiful  in  her  maidenhood,  graceful  in  the 
dawning  of  her  womanhood,  came  the  girl,  the  virgin, 
the  daughter  of  Yakootsekaya-ka,  the  Keeper  of  the 
Worlds  of  Light.  Stooping,  she  dipped  her  cup  into 
the  cool  water.  From  the  edge  of  the  spring  rolled 
Yaeethl,  into  the  cup  he  rolled,  and  lay  quiet  in  the 
shadow  of  her  hand.  Quiet  he  lay,  but  full  of  the 
Great  Desire. 

"And  the  girl  saw  him  not. 

"To  the  lodge  returned  the  maiden,  bearing  the 
cup,  the  water,  and  the  Pebble.  Into  the  lodge  en 
tered  the  maiden.  In  the  lodge  where  lay  the  Sun, 
Moon,  and  Stars,  was  Yaeethl. 

"From  the  cup  the  Wise  Man  drank,  but  Yaeethl 
moved  not.  From  the  cup  the  Mother  drank,,  and 
Yaeethl  was  motionless.  When  the  Daughter  raised 
the  cup  to  her  lips,  toward  her  lips  rolled  Yaeethl. 
Softly  he  rolled,  but  the  Mother,  ever  careful,  heard 
the  sound  of  the  pebble  on  the  cup-side,  and  the  keen 
eyes  of  the  Father  saw  the  white  pebble  shine. 

"  'Do  not  drink,  Daughter,'  said  the  Wise  Man, 
laying  his  hand  on  the  maiden's  arm.  'Small  things 
sometimes  contain  great  evils.  A  white  pebble  it  may 
be,  and  only  a  white  pebble.  Yaeethl  it  may  be, 
Yaeethl  the  Raven,  Yaeethl  the  Father  of  Thieves.' 

"Then  the  Mother  took  the  cup  and  out  through 


the  door  cast  the  water.  Through  the  door  cast  the 
pebble.  And  when  the  door  of  the  lodge  was  closed 
behind  him  Yaeethl,  the  Disappointed,  once  more  took 
his  own  form,  the  shape  of  the  raven,  white  of  wing 
and  white  of  feather. 

"Back  to  earth  flew  Yaeethl,  angry,  ashamed,  but 
more  than  ever  filled  with  a  great  longing  for  the 
Worlds  of  Light  that  lay  locked  in  the  chest  of  the 
Wise  Man. 

"Klingatona-Kla,  Earth  Mother,  wept  long  and 
sore  when  empty-handed  returned  Yaeethl,  loud  she 
wailed,  making  sure  she  must  remain  forever  dark 
and  barren.  But  Yaeethl,  the  Undaunted,  comforted 
her  with  strong  words,  and  renewed  his  promise  that 
the  Light  should  be  given  her  in  marriage,  and  her 
disgrace  forgotten  in  many  children,  children  should 
.she  have  as  the  shore  has  sand. 

"Though  he  had  flown  as  speeds  Hoon,  the  North 
Wind,  the  going  and  coming  of  Yaeethl  had  eaten 
three  winters  and  two  summers. 

"Awhile  he  rested  in  the  lap  of  Klingatona- 
Kla,  for  the  winter  he  rested,  but  with  the  coming  of 
the  spring,  he  spread  again  his  wings  and  took  flight 
towards  the  lodge  of  the  Wise  Man,  towards  the 
Great  Desire.  Mightily  he  flew,  and  swift,  for  though 
the  dead  make  the  journey  between  the  opening  and 
the  closing  of  an  eye,  for  the  living  it  is  a  long  trail. 

"When  again  he  alighted,  wing  weary,  by  the 
spring  where  the  daughter  of  Yakootsekaya-ka  drew 
water,  Yaeethl  remembered  the  shape  and  whiteness 
that  had  betrayed  him,  remembered  the  traitor  Pebble, 
and  from  the  memory  gathered  wisdom. 

"Close  to  his  side  folded  he  the  wings  of  white 
ness,  beneath  his  feathers  tucked  head  and  feet,  and 
grew  small.  Small  and  yet  smaller  he  grew,  as  melts  ice 
before  the  fire,  and  when  the  shrinking  was  ended  he 
had  taken  upon  himself  the  form  of  Thlay-oo,  the  sand 
grain.  As  Thlay-oo,  the  Little,  he  waited. 


"As  Thlay-oo,  the  Invisible,  watched  Yaeethl  for 
the  coming  of  the  maiden.  Waited  as  does  the  bear 
for  the  coming  of  Takeete,  the  After  Winter.  Watched 
as  does  the  lynx  for  the  young  caribou. 

"And  as  before  came  the  girl,  cup  in  hand,  inno 
cent  in  her  maidenhood,  wise  in  her  womanhood,  in 
both  beautiful.  Gracefully  she  stooped  and  filled  the 
cup  with  the  water  of  the  spring.  Into  the  cup  floated 
Yaeethl  in  the  shape  of  Thlay-oo.  In  the  spring  water 
he  sank  and  lay  against  the  bottom  of  the  cup.  Small 
was  Yaeethl,  but  big  with  desire  for  what  was  within 
the  chest  of  the  Wise  Man. 

"Then  the  lodge  door  opened  and  received  the 
maiden  and  the  cup,  received  Yaeethl  the  Grain  of 
Sand,  Yaeethl  the  Raven. 

"To  Yakootsekaya-ka,  her  father,-  the  girl  gave 
the  cup,  and  the  Wise  Man  drank  of  the  water.  Drank, 
but  saw  not  Yaeethl,  the  Invisible.  To  the  wife,  her 
mother,  the  maiden  gave  the  cup,  and  of  the  water 
the  Mother  drank.  Drank,  but  heard  not  Yaeethl,  the 
Still.  Then  the  maiden,  Ye-see-et,  the  Virgin,  daughter 
of  Yakootsekaya-ka,  the  Keeper  of  the  Sun,  Moon, 
and  Stars,  lifted  the  cup  to  her  lips. 

"The  Mother  spoke  not.  The  Father  moved  not. 
The  Daughter  drank. 

"Past  the  red  of  her  lips,  by  the  white  of  her 
teeth,  down  the  throat  of  the  girl  rolled  the  grain  of 
sand.  Rolled  until  it  lay  close  under  her  heart,  and 
paused.  Under  the  heart  of  the  maiden  lay  Yaeethl, 
waited  Yaeethl,  grew  Yaeethl.  Warmed  by  the  heart 
of  the  maiden  Yaeethl  grew. 

"And  time  passed. 

"Then  the  mother  of  the  maiden,  looking  upon 
her  daughter,  became  troubled  in  her  mind.  Troubled 
was  the  mind  of  the  Mother,  but  silent  her  tongue. 

"And  time  passed. 

"Again  the  Mother  looked  upon  her  daughter,  and 
looking,  Spoke  to  the  Wise  Man,  her  husband,  of  the 


thought  that  was  hers.     Spoke  she    of   the    troubled 
thought  concerning  the  maiden,  their  daughter. 

''When  the  Mother's  thought  was  the  thought  of 
the  Father  his  heart  was  filled  with  anger  at  his 
daughter  for  the  disgrace  she  would  bring  upon  his 
name.  Angrily  he  questioned  her,  that  he  might  re 
venge  himself  upon  the  thief  of  her  innocence.  But 
the  girl  looked  into  the  eyes  of  her  father  and  denied 
both  thief  and  theft.  No  man  had  she  seen  save  him, 
her  father.  Of  the  cause  of  The  Thought  that  trou 
bled  them  was  she  ignorant,  and  as  innocent  as  ig 
norant.  And  the  truth  shone  from  her  eyes  as  she 
spoke,  straight  was  her  tongue.  Empty  of  shame  was 
her  face. 

"And  the  Mother,  looking  into  the  eyes  of  her 
daughter,  believed.  And  after  a  time  was  the  Wise 
Man  convinced.  Yet  troubled  were  they  and  lost  upon 
the  trail  of  thoughts.  Tender  had  they  always  been 
of  their  daughter.  Ten  times  as  gentle  were  they 
now,  for  Yaeethl  lay  big  under  the  heart  of  the  girl, 
though  they  knew  him  not,  and  of  their  love  was 
she  in  sore  need. 

"And  time  passed. 

"Then  upon  the  maiden  came  Kod-se-tee,  the 
Woman  Pain,  and  Yaeethl  entered  the  lodge. 

"Yaeethl  whom  they  knew  not,  Yaeethl  the  Boy 
in  the  maiden's  arms.  Tokanay,  the  Baby,  they  called 
him,  with  love-light  in  their  eyes  they  named  him. 
Strong  and  large  grew  he  quickly.  So  quickly  grew 
he  that  the  maiden  and  her  mother  were  in  a  valley 
"between  the  mountain  of  pride  and  the  mountain  of 
wonder.  And  in  the  Wise  Man's  heart  flowed  a  great 
river  of  love  for  Tokanay  the  Beautiful,  Tokanay  the 
Swift  Growing.  In  the  hands  of  the  Boy  were  the 
three  hearts  held.  Their  eyes  and  their  thoughts  were 
filled  with  him,  so  that  room  for  other  things  there 
was  not.  So  was  the  locked  chest  and  its  contents 
forgotten. 


"Then  on  a  day,  a  day  of  days  to  the  Three,  the 
Boy  spoke  his  first  word. 
'  'Kakoon.' 

"Kakoon,  the  Sun,  was  the  word,  and  'Kakoon, 
Kakoon,  Kakoon,'  said  the  boy,  crying  and  stretching 
his  arms  toward  the  chest  in  the  corner  of  the  lodge. 

"The  "Wise  Man  listened  and  laughing  said:  'He 
would  take  my  place  as  Keeper  of  the  Worlds  of 
Light.'  Then  because  his  heart  was  so  soft  with  love 
that  he  could  refuse  the  Boy  nothing,  Yakootsekaya-ka 
undid  the  many  curious  locks  and  fastenings  of  the 
great  chest  and  took  out  the  .Sun. 

"Kakoon,  the  Sun,  he  took  and  gave  it  to  the 
Boy  wherewith  to  play.  And  the  Boy  ceased  his  cry 
ing  when  the  Sun  was  in  his  hands,  laughing  as  he 
rolled  the  Yellow  World  about  the  floor  of  the  lodge. 
All  day  did  the  Three  watch  him  with  loving  eyes. 

"On  the  next  day  the  Sun  lay  in  a  corner  of  the 
lodge,  unheeded  by  the  Boy.  A  new  word  had  he 
learned: 

'  'Dis-s.' 

"Dis-s,  the  Moon,  was  the  second  word,  and  as 
before,  'Dis-s,  Dis-s,'  cried  the  Boy. 

"Proudly  and  lovingly  the  Wise  Man  laughed, 
saying:  'Surely  is  he  eager  to  take  my  place.'  And 
from  the  moving  of  the  love  in  his  heart  that  an 
swered  to  the  cry  of  the  Boy  as  arrow  to  bowstring, 
Yakootsekaya-ka  unfastened  the  strong  and  heavy 
locks  of  the  chest  and  into  the  hands  of  the  Boy 
gave  the  Moon  for  plaything.  Of  Dis-s,  the  Moon, 
made  he  plaything  for  the  Boy.  And  for  that  day 
were  the  Boy's  cries  hushed  as  he  spun  and  tumbled 
the  White  World  on  the  lodge  floor.  And  his  laughter 
was  music  to  the  ears  of  the  Three. 

"But  the  next  day  the  Moon  lay  with  the  Sun. 
In  the  corner  they  lay  and  the  Boy  looked  not  at 
them.    Another  word  was  his  cry,  a  new  word. 
"Takhonaha." 

"Takhonaha,  the  Stars,  was  the  cry  of  the  Boy, 


and  again,  to  comfort  him,  the  Wise  Man  opened  the 
great  chest,  and  from  it  poured  the  Stars  into  the 
lap  of  the  Boy,  poured  the  chest  empty  of  the  Worlds 
of  Light.  And  the  Boy  laughed  loud.  Laughed  until 
the  Wise  Man,  the  Wife,  and  the  Maiden,  his  mother, 
laughed  that  he  laughed,  as  he  dripped  the  bright 
stars  through  his  fingers,  dripped  the  waterfall  of 
stars.  Then  the  Wise  Man  questioned  as  he  laughed: 
'What  shall  he  cry  for  tomorrow?  And  what  shall 
we  give  him,  the  Unsatisfied,  now  that  the  chest  is 
empty? ' 

"And  the  Boy  laughed. 

"Night  came,  and  the  Wise  Man,  and  his  Wife, 
and  the  Maiden-Mother,  their  daughter,  slept.  With 
Tokanay,  the  Baby,  in  the  hollow  of  her  arm  slept 
the  girl. 

"As  they  slept,  from  the  hollow  of  the  arm  of  the 
•  maiden  there  crept  a  raven-,  Yaeethl  the  Raven,  Yaeethl 
the  Snow-White,  Yaeethl  the  Father  of  Thieves. 

"Softly  crept -he,  with  many  times  turned  head 
and  watchful  eye  on  the  Three,  sleeping.  To  the  cor 
ner  where  the  Boy,  careless,  had  dropped  the  Shining 
Worlds,  to  the  corner  by  the  open,  empty  chest  crept 
Yaeethl  the  Noiseless. 

"And  the  Three  slept.. 

"Beneath  his  right  wing  hid  Yaeethl  the  Sun. 
Beneath  his  left  wing  hid  he  the  Moon.  Within  his 
claws  gathered  he  the  Stars. 

"Asleep  were  the  Three. 

"The  lodge  door  was  closed,  locked  was  the  door 
of  Yakootsekaya-ka,  Keeper  of  the  Worlds  of  Light. 
Fastened  tight  were  the  windows.  Barred  were  door 
and  windows  to  keep  out  Yaeethl,  the  Thief.  For  a 
moment  stood  Yaeethl,  turning  his  head  to  find  some 
hole  through  which  he  might  escape,  then  toward  the 
wide  chimney  he  flew. 

"Still  slept  the  Three. 

"Wide  spread  were  the  wings  of  Yaeethl,  the 
Flying,  and  the  great  light  of  the  Sun  was  uncovered. 


Brightly  it  shone,  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  Wise 
Man  gleamed  the  fierce  light. 

"Awake  was  Yakootsefcaya-ka,  crying:  'Yaeethl! 
Yaeethl!  'Tis  Yaeethl!  Awake!' 

"Awake  was  the  Wife  and  the  Daughter,  and  the 
Three  strove  to  catch  the  Raven,  the  White  One.  But 
the  great  light  of  the  Sun  was  in  their  eyes  and  they 
were  blinded  so  they  fell  in  each  other's  way.  And 
in  the  throat  of  the  chimney  was  Yaeethl,  flying  up 
ward. 

"Then  did  the  Wise  Man  call  upon  Kahn,  his 
sister's  son,  Kahn,  the  God  of  Fire,  to  aid  him.  Up 
blazed  Kahn  and  tried  to  catch  Yaeethl,  the  Fleeing, 
in  his  red  teeth,  but  near  the  top  of  the  chimney  was 
Yaeethl,  so  that  the  teeth  of  Kahn  could  not  reach 
him. 

"Then  Kahn  called  upon  the  Wise  Man  to  blow, 
and  the  Wise  Man  puffed  out  his  cheeks  and  blew 
with  full  lungs,  and  by  his  blowing  Kahn  stretched 
high  his  long  black  arms  and  tightly  curled  them 
about  the  White  Raven. 

"Then  did  Yaeethl,  the  Strong  of  Wing,  struggle 
mightily.  Against  Kahn,  the  Fire  God,  did  he  struggle, 
beating  with  his  white  wings.  Long  did  they  struggle, 
until  from  the  lungs  of  the  Wise  Man  was  the  breath 
gone,  and  the  arms  of  the  Fire  God,  the  smoke  arms, 
grew  thin  and  weak. 

"With  his  wings  beat  Yaeethl,  breaking  the  hold 
of  the  smoke  arms,  Yaeethl  the  Free,  Yaeethl  the  Ever 
Black  One. 

"Forever  were  the  wings  and  feathers  of  the  Raven 
blackened  by  the  smoke  arms  of  Kahn,  the  God  of 
Fire. 

"Back  toward  Klingatona-Kla,  the  Earth  Mother, 
the  Barren,  flew  Yaeethl  holding  tight  the  Sun, 'Moon, 
and  Stars.  But  after  him  came  the  Wise  Man,  full 
of  anger.  And  the  Shining  Worlds  grew  heavy. 
Heavy  was  the  pack  of  Yaeethl,  and  weary  his  wings. 
Afar  off  was  Klingatona-Kla. 


"Then  did  Yaeethl,  the  Pursued,  Yaeethl  the 
Heavy  Laden,  cast  from  him  Kakoon,  the  Sun.  To 
the  east  threw  he  the  Sun,  and  flew  on. 

"Again  did  the  Wise  Man  come  close  behind,  and 
again  did  Yaeethl  ease  his  burden.  From  hi™  threw 
he  Dis-s,  the  Moon.  To  the  West  cast  he  the  Moon. 

"Then  was  Yakootsekaya-ka  left  behind  for  a 
time,  but  the  Raven  weary  and  burdened,  flew  slowly, 
and  once  again  he  felt  the  breath  of  the  Wise  Man 
ruffle  his  feathers.  No  time  had  Yaeethl  to  stop,  on 
nothing  could  he  rest. 

"Opened  he  his  claws  and  scattered  wide  the 
Stars.  To  North  and  South  fell  Takhonaha,  the  Stars, 
to  East  and  West  fell  they. 

"Then  was  the  promise  of  Yaeethl  fulfilled.  Thus 
kept  he  his  word  to  the  Earth  Mother,  and  gave  her 
light,  that  she  might  see.  Gave  her  Kayah,  the  Light, 
to  father  her  children  and  wipe  out  the  disgrace  of 
her  barrenness.  And  the  children  of  Klingatona-Kla 
were  as  the  sands  of  the  sea. 

"But  upon  Yaeethl,  the  Raven,  had  fallen  the 
curses  of  the  Wise  Man.  Three  curses:  Blackness, 
Hoarseness,  and  the  Keeping  of  One  Shape.  And  as 
his  feathers  were  blackened,  so,  thereafter,  was  his 
heart  darkened  with  eternal  selfishness." 


I  was  silent.  My  pipe  had  gone  out,  and  Zachook 
was  bent  low  over  the  dying  fire.  I  was  thinking  of 
another  story  of  a  Child  who  had  given  Light  to  the 
World,  and  suffered  for  the  bringing. 


The  Water  Carrier 


'When  You   Give   a  Potlach,   Forget  Not   He  Who 
Carries  the  Water." 


I  HANK  Yaeethl  for  that,"  said  Zachook  as  I 
rose  with  dripping  beard  from  the  stream 
where  I  had  drunk  deep,  with  many  sighs  of  satis 
faction  and  relief.  "His  pack  is  not  heavy  with 
thanks  of  men  these  days." 

"Thank  the  Raven?     For  what?" 

"The  starving  man  asks  not  the  name  of  the 
owner  of  the  cache,  but  his  heart  is  filled  with 
gratitude. ' ' 

"That  may  be,  but  no  cache  of  Yaeethl 's  is  in 
this  stream." 

"The  ignorant  deny  all  they  cannot  see." 

"Wise  sayings  feed  neither  fire  nor  belly,"  I 
retorted,  provoked  by  the  criticism  of  my  com 
panion,  thinly  veiled  behind  his  customary  proverbs, 
and  attempting  to  pay  him  in  his  own  coin  from  my 
slender  store  of  Klingat  adages.  "  'Only  a  beggar 
gives  thanks. '  "  Is  it  not  your  teaching  that  he  who 
gives  in  this  world  receives  the  benefit,  since  in 
Tskekowani*  his  possessions  shall  be  as  his  gifts 
here?  If  Yaeethl  wants  my  thanks,  if  they  are  the 
due  of  the  Raven,  he  has  them,  but  why  or  for  what 
I  know  not.  Your  words  are  like  the  ice  of  a 
windy  day,  rough  and  cloudy." 

"You  are  right,  Cousin.  I  forget  at  times  that 
you  are  only  a  white  man.  Let  me  touch  thy  ear 
with  my  tongue." 


The  next  'borld. 


"Cha-auk.*  In  the  Time  before  Time,  there  was 
no  water  upon  the  earth  or  in  the  bowl  of  the  sea, 
and  Shanagoose  the  Sky  gave  neither  rain  nor  snow. 

"In  one  place  only  was  Keen,  the  water.  In  a 
deep  well  it  was,  the  father  of  wells,  hidden  among 
the  mountains  that  lie  between  here  and  Tskekowani. 

"To  Heenhadowa,  the  Thirst  Spirit,  belonged  the 
well,  by  Heenhadowa  was  it  guarded.  By  the  door  of 
the  well-house  sat  he  by  day,  in  front  of  the  well- 
house  door  was  his  bed  by  night.  And  none  might 
enter. 

"Never  did  he  leave  the  well,  morning,  noon 
or  night.  From  the  water  he  took  life,  to  the  water 
he  gave  life.  To  no  man,  woman,  or  child,  to  neither 
animal  nor  bird,  to  nothing  that  walks,  creeps,  or 
flies  would  Heenhadowa  give  of  the  precious  water. 
Not  so  much  as  would  moisten  the  tongue  of  Ta-ka 
the  Mosquito  would  he  give,  though  men  died. 

"To  quench  their  thirst  men  chewed  the  roots 
of  young  trees  and  the  stalk  of  Yan-a-ate.t 

"A  few  men  there  were,  brave  of  heart  and 
moose-legged,  who  had  travelled  the  weary  journey 
to  the  well  among  the  mountains,  the  mountains 
marked  with  the  trail  of  Oonah,  the  Gray  One, 
Death,  seeking  the  water  that  is  life. 

"And  of  them? 

"Is  it  not  well  said  that  Oonah,  Death,  and  Koo 
stay,  Life,  are  brothers,  and  he  who  seeks  one  finds  the 
other? 

"And  Heenhadowa  laughed,  first  at  their  black 
lips,  later  at  their  white  bones,  and  drank  deep  but 
gave  not. 

"Now  Yaeethl,  the  Raven,  Desirer  of  All  Things, 
longed  most  for  those  that  were  forbidden,  con 
cealed,  or  like  the  favor  of  women,  not  to  be  had 
for  the  asking.  And  since  the  water  was  denied, 
his  tongue  ached  with  dryness,  and  Yan-a-ate  lost 
its  savor.  Also  was  his  heart  moved  by  the  prayers 


Ages  ago. 

Species  of  wild  celery. 


of  men  and  the  cries  of  women.  But  his  tongue 
troubled  him  more  than  did  his  heart,  his  tongue 
and  his  cupidity,  so  that  he  was  moved  to  try  his 
cunning  where  the  strength  and  bravery  of  men  had 
failed. 

' '  No  crooked  trail  through  forests  and  over  moun 
tains  had  Yaeethl  to  measure  with'  his  feet,  but  on 
his  wings  of  blackness  was  he  borne  straight  to  the 
place  of  the  well. 

"Well  and  well-house  he  found,  found  also 
Heenhadowa,  watchful,  moving  not  from  his  place. 
As  one  greets  an  old  friend  new  found  spoke  Yaeethl 
to  the  Thirst  Spirit.  With  smooth  tongue  and  soft 
words  spoke  the  Raven,  claiming  kinship  through 
the  cousin  of  his  grandmother's  grandmother.  Said 
also  that  when  he  left  his  father's  country  he  was 
bidden  seek  that  old  and  true  friend  of  the  family, 
Heenhadowa  the  Wise,  the  Generous  Giver  of  Water. 
As  bidden,  so  had  he  obeyed  and  flown  straight 
without  halt  or  rest  to  bow  before  his  mighty  rela 
tive,  and  taste  of  his  wonderful  well,  the  like  of 
which  not  even  his  father  had,  who  possessed  all 
things. 

"But  the  Maker  of  Thirst  laughed  at  the  Raven 
and  mocked  him,  bidding  him,  if  he  would  drink, 
find  or  dig  a  well  of  his  own. 

"Again  Yaeethl  recounted  their  connected  line 
age,  from  mother  to  mother's  mother,  from  family 
to  family  and  tribe  to  tribe,  tied  with  proof  and 
argument,  lashed  with  meek  bows,  and  smoothed 
with  soft  flattery. 

"Heenhadowa  laughed  scornfully,  cast  from  him 
the  claim  of  cousinship,  and  mocked  at  Yaeethl's 
tongue,  dry  from  the  dust  of  many  words. 

' '  Then  Yaeethl  drew  about  him  the  parka  of  anger 
and  answered  scorn  with  scorn,  mockery  with  mock 
ery,  and  laughter  with  laughter. 

"In  his  father's  country,  said  Yaeethl,  they  gave 


the  name  of  Heenhadowa  to  mangy  dogs  and  unclean 
women.  Glad  was  the  heart  of  Yaeethl  that  the  Thirst 
Spirit  denied  the  relationship  he  had  laid  as  a  snare, 
the  denial  would  make  his  father  proud.  As  for  the 
well,  'twas  now  known  to  the  most  stupid,  even  to 
men,  that  it  was  but  an  empty  hole  in  the  ground, 
covered  by  the  well-house  to  hide  the  dryness  there 
of,  and  no  deeper  than  Kaelt-tay,  the  Seagull, 
scratches  in  the  sand  for  nesting. 

"Laughed  Heenhadowa  again,  saying  that  belief 
or  unbelief  of  Raven  or  man  lessened  not  his  treas 
ure  by  a  drop. 

"Then  Yaeethl's  words  flared  as  firesparks. 
Hot  words  of  evil  sounding  names,  vile  as  only  the 
brain  of  Yaeethl  could  fashion,  taunts  that  bit  and 
stung  festeringly  like  the  nettles  of  Sech-ut,*  names 
that  would  disgrace  the  family  of  a  Siwash,  callings 
that  would  make  even  a  squaw-man  hang  his  head 
in  shame.  Can  I  say  more  of  the  bitterness  of  the 
tongue  of  Yaeethl? 

"Heenhadowa  laughed. 

"To  battle  Yaeethl  challenged  the  Thirst  Spirit: 
'Come  forth  and  meet  me,  you  fatherless  son  of  a 
shameless  mother,  littering  of  a  slave's  slave. 

"  'Come  with  me  to  the  plain  below  and  I  will 
make  of  thy  blood  another  well,  for  another  of  thy 
family  of  dogs  to  guard.' 

"Flatteries  and  arguments,  insults  and  challenges 
fell  into  the  same  echoless  hole,  bringing  to  Yaeethl 
only  the  laughter  of  Heenhadowa  and  increase  of 
thirst. 

"Then  was  the  heart  of  Yaeethl  heavy  within 
him,  but  not  so  heavy  as  his  face  said,  for  it  is  not 
the  way  of  the  Raven  to  eat  quickly  of  discourage 
ment,  though  he  turned  and  left  the  well  and  its 
guardian  like  a  gambler  who  has  lost  his  last  blan 
ket. 

"Not  far  did  he  go.    Only  so  far  as  to  be  hidden 


DeWs  Qab. 


from  the  eyes  of  Heenhadowa,  where  silence  might 
mother  the  children  of  his  brain.  And  since  the 
brain  of  the  Raven  is  full  of  the  seeds  of  cunning  a 
plan  was  quickly  born. 

"Back  toward  the  well  flew  Yaeethl,  but,  since 
he  who  sees  the  tail  of  a  lone  wolf  imagines  the 
whole  pack,  he  alighted  at  a  distance  where  the 
eyes  of  Heenhadowa  saw  as  one  sees  in  a  fog.  A 
space  the  size  a  man  uses  for  his  lodge  he  cleared 
of  all  bushes  and  weeds,  to  the  smallest  blade  of 
grass  he  cleared  it  of  everything  that  grew. 

"When  the  space  was  as  the  palm  of  a  man's 
hand  the  Raven  spread  his  wings  until  every  feather 
showed  and,  first  bowing  low  to  Hoon-nach,  Yunda- 
haech,  Sa-nach,  and  Deckta-haech,*  who  guard ,  the 
four  corners  of  the  earth,  walked  slowly  around  the 
sides  three  times,  at  every  third  step  stopping  and 
making  strange  motions  and  stranger  sounds,  as 
does  an  Ichtf  when  he  would  drive  the  evil  spirits 
away. 

"From  each  corner  he  took  a  stone  and  spat 
upon  it  and  cast  it  over  his  shoulder,  and  in  the 
dust  drew  the  shapes  of  animals  like  unto  rolled 
deer-thongs,  animals  with  two  tongues  such  as  no 
man  has  seen  upon  earth.* 

"To  the  space  Yaeethl  dragged  logs  and  laid 
them  end  across  end  and  bottom  on  top.  As  each 
tier  was  laid  he  sang  words  in  a  strange  language, 
and  as  he  sang,  spat  upon  and  cast  pebbles  over  his 
shoulder  as  before. 

"But  toward  Heenhadowa  were  the  eyes  and 
tongue  of  Yaeethl  the  eyes  of  the  blind  and  the  tongue 
of  the  dumb.  Busily  he  worked  and  loudly  sang  his 
charms,  but  to  the  Thirst  Spirit  he  gave  neither  look 
nor  word. 

"On  Yaeethl  were  the  eyes  of  Heenhadowa  fas 
tened,  strained  were  his  eyes,  watching  the  doings 
of  the  Raven,  wide  his  ears  to  catch  the  words  of 
the  songs  and  charms. 


*  North,  E*si,  South  and  West. 

t  Witch  Doctor. 

I  Snakes  art  unknown  in 


>  .-» , .» 


"When  the  roof  was  on  and  the  house  finished 
to  the  last  piece  of  moss  between  the  logs,  Ya'eethl 
again  circled  it  three  times,  bowed  again  to  the 
guardians  of  the  earth's  ends,  and  without  looking 
behind,  entered  the  lodge  and  closed  the  door. 

"Curiosity  filled  eyes  and  ears,  heart  and  belly 
of  Heenhadowa.  Though  he  had  lived  since  the  Be 
ginning,  never  before  had  he  seen  what  that  day  he 
had  seen,  never  had  his  ears  been  greeted  with  such 
words  and  songs. 

"And  to  Heenhadowa  the  inside  of  the  lodge 
was  the  pack,  as  was  the  outside  the  lone  wolf  tail. 

"Even  so  had  Yaeethl  planned,  nor  was  that 
the  end  of  the  cunning  of  the  Raven,  who  knew 
that  no  door  can  "bar  the  going  in  of  curiosity. 

"Long  sat  Heenhadowa  before  the  door  of  his 
well-house,  gazing  at  the  lodge  of  Yaeethl.  And  the 
longer  he  sat  and  the  longer  he  gazed  the  keener 
grew  his  desire  to  see  what  was  hidden  from  Ms 
eyes  by  the  walls  and  closed  door,  grew  until  it 
tortured  him  as  the  thirsty  are  tortured,  beyond  en 
durance. 

"And  Heenhadowa  rose  from  his  seat  by  the 
well. 

"From  the  place  where  he  had  sat  for  ages 
rose  the  Thirst  Spirit  and  stepped  softly.  Toward 
the  closed  door  he  moved  as  moves  one  who  is  pulled 
at  the  end  of  a  thong,  for  the  fear  of  the  unknown 
was  upon  him.  But  stronger-  than  his  fear  was  his 
desire  to  know  what  lay  behind  the  door,  stronger 
even  than  his  fear  of  those  strange  animals  that  were 
drawn  in  the  dust,  dust  pictures  that  made  his 
blood  ice. 

"Before  the  door  he  stopped  and  glanced  back 
the  way  he  had  come,  at  his  well  and  well-house  he 
looked,  then  pushing  against  the  door  with  his  hand, 
stepped  within  the  house  builded  by  Yaeethl,  made 
by  Yaeethl  the  Raven,  Yaeethl  the  Cunning. 


"No  man  knows  what  Heenhadowa  found  within 
the  lodge  of  the  Raven.  Only  this  we  know. 

"When  the  time  of  the  boiling  of  a  salmon  had 
passed,  from  the  door  stepped  Yaeethl  walking  as 
a  man  walks  who  has  been  carrying  a  heavy  pack. 
Behind  him  he  closed  the  door  and  against  it  rolled 
a  heavy  stone,  a  stone  so  heavy  that  not  even  K 'hoots 
the  Grizzly,  the  Strong  One,  could  have  moved  it 
away  again. 

"Within  the  lodge  was  silence,  silence  big  with 
unborn  noise. 

"To  the  well  of  Heenhadowa,  the  father  of  wells 
among  the  mountains,  the  well  untasted  of  man  or 
beast,  flew  Yaeethl,  Yaeethl  the  Desirer  of  All 
Things. 

"And  when  the  Raven  stood  beside  the  well  he 
bowed  his  head  and  drank. 

"Some  say  that  it  took  him  many  moons,  some 
put  it  the  length  of  a  man's  life,  but,  long  time  or 
short  time,  when  the  head  of  Yaeethl  the  Raven  was 
lifted  the  well  was  dry. 

"Of  water  there  was  none  in  the  well  of  Heen 
hadowa. 

"In  the  belly  and  mouth  of  the  Raven  was  the 
water.  All. 

"Then  did  Yaeethl  spread  wide  his  wings  of 
blackness  and  fly  the  way  of  his  coming. 

"As  he  flew  over  the  bosom  of  Klingatona-Kla, 
the  Earth  Mother,  in  this  place  and  in  that  he  spat 
out  some  of  the  water.  And  where  spat  the  Raven 
there  sprang  up  streams,  and  rivers,  and  lakes. 

"When  he  had  flown  so  long  and  so  far  that 
the  water  was  gone  from  his  mouth,  and  in  his 
belly  was  not  fresh,  then  from  his  belly  and  his 
mouth  he  cast  it,  salt,  and  Athlch,  the  Ocean,  was." 


I   waited   silently,   for  there  was   an   uplift   in 


Zachook's  voice  that  made  me  think  there  was. more 
to  follow,  but  it  was  only: 

"If  you  listen  to  the  words  of  them  that  know 
not,  they  will  tell  you  that  Haechlt  is  a  great  bird 
the  falling  of  whose  eyelids  makes  thunder,  the  flash 
ing  of  whose  eye  is  the  lightning,  but  if  my  words 
be  the  words  of  truth,  .then  is  thunder  the  angry 
voice  of  Heenhadowa  whom  Yaeethl  made  prisoner, 
and  lightning  the  cracks  in  the  lodge  walls  when  he 
throws  himself  against  them,  struggling  to  be  free. 
Should  he  succeed 

"But,  bird  or  Thirst  Spirit,  from  Yaeethl  is  the 

gift  of  water.  So  say  I  again when  you  drink, 

give  thanks  to  the  Raven  that  chewed  roots  are  not  the 
answer  to  thy  dry  lips, — give  thanks,  and  pray  that 
the  rock  rolls  not  away." 

And  I  gave  thanks,  quoting  to  myself  another 
of  Zachook's  sayings,  "Better  a  wasted  arrow  than 
lost  game. ' ' 


Ta-ka  the  cMosquito  and 

Khandatagoot  the  Woodpecker 


"As  Foolish  as  One  Who  Shoots  Arrows  at 
Mosquitoes. ' ' 


BACHOOK,  with  a  half  amused,  half  sympathetic 
smile  at  my  futile  efforts  to  slaughter  a  small 
percentage  of  the  mosquito  cloud  that  enveloped  us, 
made  a  smudge  of  leaves,  and  I  willingly  exchanged 
the  tortures  of  being  eaten  alive  for  those  of  slow 
strangulation  in  the  acrid  smoke. 

My  remarks  had  been  neither  calm  nor  patient, 
consisting  mainly  of  my  entire  vocabulary  of  oppro 
brious  adjectives  and  epithets  several  times  repeated 
and  diversified,  aided  by  a  wide,  but  wholly  inade 
quate,  range  of  profanity  in  the  various  languages 
at  my  command.  And,  to  digress  slightly,  I  would 
recommend  the  study  of  Arabic  and  Spanish  to  those 
feeling  a  similar  need;  they  do  not  meet  all  require 
ments  of  forcible  expression,  but  they  add  some  won 
derful  flights  of  imagination  to  the  more  practical 
English  expletives. 

Zachook  was  apparently  as  unimpressed  as  the 
mosquitoes,  but  when  I  had  recovered  some  portion  of 
my  breath  and  equinimity,  remarked:  "He  who 
shoots  with  his  tongue  should  be  careful  of  his  aim." 

Choking  with  anger  and  smoke  I  could  only 
splutter  in  reply,  while  Zachook  continued: 

"Ta-ka  is  Ta-ka,  and  Yaeethl  is  Yaeethl." 

"What  has  the  Raven  to  do  with  these  insuf 
ferable  pests?  Has  he  not  enough  to  answer  for 
without  linking  his  name  with  these  suckers  of 
blood?  Yaeethl  is  Yaeethl,  but  Ta-ka  is  Ta-ka." 

"Yaeethl  or  Ta-ka.  The  get  of  the  Raven  are 
ravens,  and  from  Yaeethl  comes  Ta-ka  the  Biter. 


"When  the  selfishness  of  men  had  driven  the 
gods  from  the  earth,  the  Great  Ones  held  a  council 
in  Tskekowani,  a  potlach  in  the  World  Beyond.  All 
the  gods  were  there.  They  talked  of  the  sins  of  men 
and  of  the  punishments  that  should  be  visited  upon 
them.  Long  they  talked. 

"Then  Theunghow,  Chief  of  Gods,  called  each 
by  name,  and  bade  him  name  his  sending. 

"And  each  god  named  a  sickness,  a  pain,  or  a 
killing, 

"At  one  side  stood  Oonah  the  Death  Shadow, 
and  in  his  hand  held  his  quiver.  And  as  each  pun 
ishment  was  named,  into  his  quiver  placed  Oonah 
an  arrow,  sharp-pointed,  swift-flying,  death-carrying. 

"The  quiver  was  full,  and  all  had  spoken,  all 
save  Yaeethl  the  Raven,  who  by  the  cook  pot  sat 
smiling,  eating. 

"To  Yaeethl  spoke  K 'hoots  the  Grizzly,  saying: 

"  'Dost  thou  send  nothing,  Brother?  Behold, 
the  Quiver  of  Death  is  full,  and  from  the  Raven  is 
there  no  arrow  of  punishment  for  men.  What  ar 
row  gives  Yaeethl?' 

"  'Why  bother  me  when  I  am  eating?  Is  there 
not  time  after  the  pot  is  empty?  Many  arrows 
there  are.  Because  men  insult  me  shall  gods  spoil 
my  eating?'  Thus  spoke  the  Raven  as  he  scraped  the 
pot. 

"Then  Hckt  the  Frog  urged,  saying: 

"  'Art  thou  a  god,  or  is  thy  belly  a  god,  that  in 
the  council  the  Raven  takes  no  part?' 

"  'A  god  am  I,  and  a  god  have  I  been  since  the 
Beginning,  thou  son  of  wind  and  slime.  But  that 
my  ears  may  be  no  longer  troubled,  a  little  pun 
ishment  will  I  send,  that  the  sons  of  men  forget 
me  not.  No  arrow  from  Yaeethl  shall  find  place 
in  Oonah 's  quiver.  Arrow  and  messenger  both  will 
I  send.  Thy  punishments  carry  the  peace  of  death, 
mine  the  torment  of  life.' 


'  'And  this  punishment  of  thine?'  asked  Hckt 
sneering. 

"And  Yaeethl,  as  from  the  pot  he  cleaned  the 
last  morsel,  replied: 

"  'Ta-ka.' 

"Of  all  the  punishments  named  by  the  gods 
the  first  to  reach  the  earth  was  that  of  Yaeethl' 
-  -  Ta-ka  the  Mosquito. 

'To  Khandatagoot  the  Woodpecker,  the  simple- 
minded,  went  Ta-ka,  and  from  the  Woodpecker 
claimed  hospitality.  And  the  rights  of  a  stranger 
gave  Khandatagoot  to  Ta-ka,  gave  him  a  place  by 
the  fire,  and  of  his  food  a  share,  for  his  head  a 
shelter,  treating  him  as  the  son  of  a  sister  is  treated 
Together  they  fished  and  hunted,  together  they  ate 
and  slept.  Of  the  hunting  and  fishing  the  chief 
part  was  Khandatagoot 's,  of  the  eating  and  sleeping 
Ta-ka 's,  -Ta-ka  who  from  Yaeethl  came. 

'On  a  morning  the  Woodpecker  fixed  his  canoe, 
and  alone  to  the  hunt  went  the  Mosquito. 

"All  day  was  Ta-ka  gone.  Low  hung  the  sun 
when  to  camp  he  returned.  Slow  flying  came  the 
Mosquito,  and  as  blood  is  red,  so  was  the  body  of 
Ta-ka,  and  swelled  mightily. 

"Then  was  the  Woodpecker  frightened,  think 
ing  his  friend  wounded,  and  crying,  ran  to  help  him. 
To  the  ground  sank  Ta-ka,  but  no  wound  could 
Khandatagoot  find. 

"Many  questions  asked  the  Woodpecker,  and 
to  them  Ta-ka  replied: 

'No  hurt  have  I,  but  full  is  my  belly,  full  of 
the  choicest  eating  that  ever  made  potlach.  Yet 
much  did  I  leave  behind,  the  feasting  of  many 
months  did  I  leave.' 

"Then  was  the  belly  of  Khandatagoot  pinched 
with  hunger  for  this  good  eating,  and  of  Ta-ka 
claimed  his  share. 

"On    the    tongue    of    the    Woodpecker    placed 


Ta-ka  a  drop,  saying:  'No  more  can  I  give  of  what 
I  have  eaten,  but  as  you  have  shared  with .  me,  so 
shall  I  share  with  you.  The  fill  of  many  bellies  is 
there  left.' 

"  'Where  is  this  sweet  eating?'  asked  Khanda- 
tagoot,  'Tell  me  the  trail  that  I  too  may  feast  until 
my  wings  are  heavy.' 

"  'No  trail  is  there,  Brother.  The  red  juice  of 
a  dead  tree  is  this  eating,  a  dead  tree  in  the  forest. 
It's  name  I  know  not,  but  hunt,  and  you  shall  find 
it.  Go  quickly,  lest  others  get  there  first.' 


"And  since  then,"  said  Zachook,  throwing  an 
other  handful  of  leaves  on  the  fire,  "since  then  the 
Woodpecker  spends  his  days  seeking  in  dead  trees 
the  red  juice  that  flows  in  the  veins  of  live  men." 


Published 
by       * 
THe    Raven 


1114-1115-1116 

American    BanK    Building 
Seattle 
U.  S.  A. 


Copyrighted 

19O9 
By    J.  Frederic  Thome 


Frees  of 
Gate-way  Printing  Co. 


RETURNED  TO 

MAR271973^THROLIB' 


Gaylamount 


YD   12173 


M35070 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


